Almost

Put some finishing touches on my 3 installations and one hanging for Gala Corina. The show this year is phenomenal !! I have already picked out my favorites and keep adding to the list. The venue is incredible, huge. The artists this year are pure cream! I've met some real sweeties!

So. Just a few more things to do before opening. I'm finishing up my series of Artists Trading Cards for the show. They're a phenom where artists created 2 1/2" by 3 1/2" mini art works and sell or trade them. This year, 40 plus of us are participating. We will trade each other for a set and the balance of the 96 we agreed to create will be sold to support the show. Go here to learn about them: http://www.cedarseed.com/air/atc.html

My series is called 'Flasher'. Each features a coat or curtain that must be opened or moved aside to view. Some 'inner messages' are benign, others stare right back at you. Next time, I resolve to spend more time on them so they're more complex.

Forgot some of the little people I made for Swept Under to pin in falling out of pockets and from under the back train of the coat, but I'll take them with me tomorrow when I go to help sort and wrap the ATCs. Interested in doing your own ATCs??

So. I'm done. Almost.

(Ed. Note: Here's a short how-to video to get you started doing your own.

http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=1098982549&fr=yfp-t-471 )

Deluge

Covered. Up to my gills in expectations. None of them necessarily extrapolated from the outside, but held to my bosom dearly, seriously. Knowing that if I did not complete the tasks laid before me, that I will be eternally damned.

It's an art show. Not a gamma ray bombardment. Still, I'm stressed. Why do this to myself? Are you kidding? I LOVE it! The detritus of creativity is fulsome even when it is rushed. You always get a high from creation.

Cleaned as part of the crew for Gala Corina Saturday. I say this weakly because I felt like the 5th teat on a boar. So many more competants abounding while I carried my cleaning supplies in the obligatory box from one destination to the other. I am not needed.

Should I celebrate or feel guilty? Get it done, oh vagrant youth with the body that doesn't tremble on a ladder. Paint walls until your clothes take on the tint of the pigment and the joints that don't freeze up into uncomfortable position have covered the 9 mile stretch of need to be spruce. Vacuum and pound and connect electrical circuitry until you have everything singing at the end of a switch. I'll sit over here and watch you.

The deal is, we're supposed to work as artists at Gala Corina. To participate means that you have to donate in kind to the drona of the show. I can give, have the will to, but the fact is that the flesh that is willing to create is less likely to perform on cue when called upon for physical labor.

Okay. Let's call the cat black here. I cannot participate much beyond a creative level. No matter. I have put out my soul in the month before making a new work. Swept Under. My labor hours are counted etherically. More about that later.

Deadline

I spent the last three days doing this when I should have been working. I am continually reminded how much I hate deadlines. How many more of them do I need before I learn?